


I Need You, Too

by white_rose9



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Blindshipping, Caretaking, Crying, Fever, First Kiss, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Post-Canon Fix-It, Puzzleshipping, Sickfic, Yami Yuugi | Atem Has His Own Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26487391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/white_rose9/pseuds/white_rose9
Summary: Atem was now a solid, living human being—only by the grace of the gods—and he could not even properly care for himself.He wanted Yugi to.-Puzzleshipping.
Relationships: Atem/Mutou Yuugi, Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 90





	I Need You, Too

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy! :)

Sleeping for Atem while sick was as useless as ever. He was trembling at first, so he bundled himself in his throw blanket, only for the warmth to now feel unbearable. His congestion and persisting pressure only aggravated his inability to lay still. Sniffling, Atem unraveled himself from his blanket, tossing it aside. He buried his reddening face into his pillow, enwrapping it with his arms for comfort. His deep breaths teetered into short, quivering gasps, as he could no longer withstand coughing. His vulnerability was a sobering realization for the former pharaoh. Atem was now a solid, living human being—only by the grace of the gods—and he could not even properly care for himself. 

He wanted Yugi to.

However, his partner had been intently studying throughout the past several weeks, as his final exams were rapidly approaching. He would spend most nights at the library with their friends, as he currently was now. And if he was not in the library, he was usually spending late nights studying in his bedroom—so Atem would accommodate him by ‘sleeping’ on the couch, rather than his futon. He was not enrolled in school himself, and he wondered if it was something he should reconsider, because Atem oftentimes found himself bored— _troubled_.

And his sickness was only worsening.

It was not as noticeable in comparison to the beginning of the week. His body was only a tad warmer, and there was a tickle in his throat. It was nothing he could have not managed himself—and frankly, he did not want to disrupt his partner’s concentration on his studies. So his progressing sickness went unnoticed by Yugi. But by midweek, it was becoming more of a challenge to stand upright; to _think_ through the fog of his mind. It became even more so troubling once Solomon was invited to be a guest speaker for a seminar conducted by Professor Hawkins—Atem and Yugi were now to themselves for the entirety of the weekend. 

He wondered as to how much longer he could maintain this facade.

With frustrated tears welling his stinging eyes, Atem tightened his hold onto his pillow as if it was his lifeline. It was foolish of Atem to desire Yugi’s comfort; he understood, but he _relished_ in it. And this was therefore why he needed to take care of himself. Indulging in his fantasy of Yugi caring for him likewise to a lover was far too inappropriate. His bond to Yugi was unlike any other; however, his partner was only his friend, after all. It was challenging to accept, but Atem could no longer delude himself into believing the possibility their bond could be more than friendly. 

He shuddered at the prospect of acknowledging his love to Yugi. He would most likely recoil in embarrassment or even disgust—a terrifying scenario Atem would never want to unravel—and their friendship would never be as it once was. Their friendship has already transformed following their ceremonial duel alone. There was no longer a connection through their mind links, for example. Atem was now a whole, entire separate being who did not necessarily _need_ to be by his partner’s side almost all of the time. There was no sufficient excuse to be, although he certainly wanted one. Testing the waters with romance could therefore then _disturb_ it. 

Their ceremonial duel was shy of its third month anniversary, but it was as if it had occurred merely yesterday. He was not only immensely proud of the duelist his aibou had become, but the gods granted him a second chance of life—a _lifetime_ he could now spend with Yugi—and his dream had finally become reality.

So why _can’t_ he be as happy as he was then? 

His weariness was evergrowing. A pulsating headache decided to then make an appearance—whether because of his illness or troubling thoughts of his friendship with Yugi, he was not entirely sure. He released his pillow from his deathly grasp, gingerly rolling his shivering body onto its side. Atem, undoubtedly, would be awake throughout the night—not only because of his sickness, but because he wanted to ensure Yugi had arrived home safely. Regardless, he had to at least pretend to sleep once Yugi arrived home from studying. It was certainly not what he wanted, but it was what he had to do.

* * *

He stared blankly at the wall before him in the darkness for quite some time. Perhaps he should reconsider discovering hobbies other than card games after all. He almost decided to may as well turn the television on, as it appeared Yugi would not be returning home anytime soon—until, lo and behold, his ears pricked at the sound of the creaking floorboards beneath him. His breathing stilled. Atem could only pray to the gods Yugi would be drained from studying, and immediately retreat to bed.

But he also knew that wasn’t Yugi’s nature. 

“Atem?” his partner whispered. He was not in his peripheral vision, but Atem could hear Yugi uneasily shifting on his feet, most likely deliberating whether to ‘wake’ him. His nose twitched, and Atem clenched his jaw. He had to be as quiet as possible, but his sickness clearly had other ideas. 

“Atem…” Yugi repeated. The floorboards creaked with each tentative step. “Are you okay?”

He winced. He softly sneezed into his elbow—only to be accompanied by a sharp chest pain—and he bit out a cry. He could not allow Yugi to see he was in pain.

“Bless you,” his partner unknowingly responded. Atem could hear the smile in his voice as well. “What’re you doing awake, mou hitori no boku?”

It was a rhetorical question; Atem understood. He rarely slept most nights—even while healthy. Silence encompassed the living room. He had a fleeting hope Yugi would _now_ retreat to bed, but luck did not appear to be on his side tonight. 

Yugi paused his hesitant steps once he stood beside the couch. The table lamp then began to flicker. Despite the dim lighting, Atem could see the concern etched into his partner’s face. _“Atem,”_ Yugi’s frown only deepened, “what’s going on?”

“...Aibou, I…” he swallowed thickly. He could not even muster a weak lie. He could not even look into his partner’s eyes. “It’s only...” his voice faltered as Yugi unexpectedly pressed his palm on his forehead.

“A _fever,_ ” Yugi answered, seemingly oblivious to the embarrassment on Atem’s face. “Oh, Yami…” he whispered, sadly, “why didn’t you tell me?”

_Yami._ It has been some time since he was referred to as so. Atem remained silent, averting his gaze to the floor. Withdrawing his palm from his forehead, Yugi began to delicately brush his fingers through the former pharaoh’s matted hair. Although he was trembling from his ministrations, Atem remained stubbornly silent. His partner’s face, however, emanated patience— _resilience_. His Yugi could be as stubborn as him, after all. There was no possibility he could refute his partner’s care as of now, and have him _listen._

“Atem,” Yugi whispered once more. His fingers continued to brush through his hair. Absentmindedly, Atem leaned into his touch. “You don’t really want to sleep on the couch, do you? C’mon, let’s get you upstairs to my room.”

“But…” Atem weakly rebutted, “I don’t want to be a bother—” 

Shushing him, Yugi withdrew his fingers from his hair. He clasped one hand onto his shoulder, answering, “ _Y_ _ami,_ you’re never a _bother_ to me.” He extended his free hand to Atem. “...So, please, trust me, okay?”

_Yami._ There it was again.

The former pharaoh eyed his partner’s extended hand apprehensively before grasping onto it with his own. Gently, Yugi tugged him upwards from the couch, only for Atem to nearly stumble from his dizziness. His partner’s strong hold on his shoulder, however, steadied him. It was oddly endearing, though Atem would never admit so. 

Squeezing his shoulder in encouragement, Yugi guided him towards the staircase. It was a silent trudge upstairs, with the exception of an occasional sniffle. Yugi spared a glance towards his Yami—who was now paler by several notches—and tightened his arm around his shoulder. “We’re almost there,” he whispered.

Atem drew a shaky breath. The stair steps were as if almost infinite. With his trembling knees nearly buckling, Atem leaned closer against Yugi’s chest, shifting his weight onto him. Instinctively, Yugi adjusted his hold by wrapping his arm tenderly around his waist. His partner was now more or less _carrying_ him upstairs—Yugi, however, voiced no complaints. 

Atem ducked his head in embarrassment. It was especially pitiful of him to depend on his partner to walk him upstairs. He noted to himself to apologize to Yugi once this ghastly fever broke. After all, Atem was intruding on his partner’s studying with an illness he could have— _should_ have—managed himself. Of course, Yugi would never admit so. He was too kind. 

“...’tem? Hey, can you hear me?”

Atem cursed silently in his language. “What?” he rasped. He tentatively tilted his head upwards, wincing at his partner’s thoughtful expression.

“I think it’s time for bed, mou hitori no boku,” Yugi then answered with a wry smile. 

In a daze, Atem stared at him, before realizing there were no more stair steps to trudge. Somehow—only by his partner steadying him—they were now inside of Yugi’s bedroom. Perhaps his fever was disorienting his awareness more than he realized.

He was now being steered towards Yugi’s own bed. Visibly confused, Atem writhed in Yugi’s arms. “But…” he strained his voice to protest, “I can sleep on the futon…”

Yugi shushed him once more, releasing his secure hold around Atem’s waist. Atem did slightly sway once his partner released him; fortunately, he did not collapse. Yugi kept a watchful eye, however, as he pulled back the covers. Atem grimaced. This night could not possibly become even more embarrassing than it already has. He was not supposed to be vulnerable—especially not for Yugi to witness—but frankly, he has been failing miserably. 

His partner’s hands returned to his shoulders, delicately pressing him to sit onto the mattress as if he was as fragile as glass. Admittedly, in comparison to the couch and the futon, the mattress _did_ feel nicer. 

“I’ll be right back—I’m going to bring you some aspirin and water, okay?” 

Atem shivered in response. He slowly maneuvered his legs under the sheets, curling onto his side. “Aibou...” he cleared his throat, “I’m _sorry_.”

Yugi frowned. He decided to seat himself upon the bed, scooting closely to Atem. “ _Y_ _ami,_ there’s nothing to be sorry for, you’re sick.” He tentatively rested his hand upon his thigh. _“Let me help you.”_

Atem proved himself wrong. His night could become more embarrassing than it already has. 

His mouth suddenly dried and his heart began to pound. “I do trust you, _but_ …”

“You’re _not_ going to be a bother,” Yugi interrupted. “Please, don’t tell me that again—don’t even _think_ that of yourself. You’re my other half, Yami. You always will be.” 

Atem’s eyes widened, welling once more. He gingerly uncurled his body, sitting up straight. “Yugi, I…” he trembled, lowering his head. He knew he _should_ have remained silent, but his delirious fever encouraged him to speak brutally unfiltered. This particular question has been gnawing him following a month or so after their ceremonial duel. 

He could not even look into his partner’s eyes as he dared to ask, “Do you…” Atem sniffed, “Do you think the gods made a mistake?”

Yugi’s breathing paused.

_"What...?”_ he could hear the anxiety—the _desperation_ —in his partner’s tone. “Atem, what’re you talking about?” He held onto his shaking hand. “Why are you asking me that?”

“I...” Atem choked on a sob. _“I’m sorry,”_ Atem meekly apologized. Shutting his eyes, he continued his rambling, “I’m so sorry, Yugi, I...I didn’t...” 

_I didn’t what? Didn’t think?_

Hurriedly, Yugi embraced him, and Atem cried out of sheer shock. His partner was _cradling_ him to his chest—and Atem’s prideful composure crumbled into nothingness. He began to sob earnestly. And even though Yugi was holding him affectionately, whispering positive reassurances—his loneliness, his unadulterated _fear_ for his future—was consuming him whole. He did not genuinely believe it was his time for his spirit to cross into the afterlife following their duel. But Atem now wondered if it would have been best for Yugi. If his existence in the physical world was now becoming a heavy burden for Yugi to bear.

And as he sobbed into Yugi’s chest, it dawned upon Atem he was only a mere shadow of the poised former pharaoh he once was. 

But there was his Yugi, tightening his embrace— _grounding_ him—and although he was ashamed, he did feel safe, _free_ in his partner’s arms to cry. His partner’s fingers delicately combed through his hair once more. It anchored him into reality. Ever so slowly, his erratic breathing began to level. 

“Don’t you understand, Yami?” Yugi suddenly whispered. 

Hesitantly, Atem peered into his partner’s eyes, which were brimming with tears. And Atem realized he did not have the strength to express as to what he was thinking to his aibou. It only made his heart ache. 

“The gods didn’t make a mistake,” Yugi affirmed, “I...I don’t know where I’d be in _life_ without you...” he trembled. “I _need_ you, mou hitori no boku.”

Atem stilled. He was unsure as to how to respond, but he did not need to. For his Yugi had pressed a swift, almost undetectable, kiss onto his lips. 

_"I need you,"_ his partner shakily repeated.

Atem stared at him, dumbly—he could not even momentarily _think,_ as his blood was pounding in his ears. And as the silence lingered, his aibou paled, as if he had committed a dire mistake. 

“Atem…” Yugi apprehensively began, but his words quickly died on his lips. Atem had moved his arm around his partner’s lower back, and fervently pressed into his partner’s lips with his own. Yugi instinctively curled his fingers into his hair, tugging Atem closer. 

Tears sprang into Atem’s eyes once more—his throat ached, his head throbbed, and his body was unbearably burning from his fever and his strong _desire_ —but this intimacy was all he ever truly wanted and nothing more. 

He could have endlessly remained in Yugi’s hold. 

“I need _you_ , too,” Atem affirmed, breathlessly.

* * *

Some time passed until Yugi, reluctantly, released Atem from his tight embrace. Momentarily, he left the bedroom in order to retrieve water and aspirin—as _originally_ intended. In the fleeting moment he was alone in Yugi’s bedroom, Atem thanked the gods in a quiet prayer for his aibou. 

Yugi returned as quickly as he had left, prompting Atem to drink the glass offered to him. Atem grimaced as he swallowed the pain relievers. His raw throat certainly wasn’t appreciative as he downed the glass as soon as he could muster. “Thank you,” he rasped, as Yugi then handed him some tissues to dry his tears and relieve his congestion. 

His partner smiled, warmly, placing the glass on his nightstand. Gently, he coaxed Atem to lie down onto the bed once more. Atem curled onto his side, tucking his knees into his chest. Yugi then crawled into bed with him. And Atem wondered if his face would infinitely remain a deep shade of red, as Yugi’s strong arms suddenly wrapped around his body once more, pressing Atem’s back against his chest.

Yugi drew the covers over them. “Goodnight, Yami,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss into his hair. 

Ever so slowly, Atem turned his body to face his partner. His mind was rattled with a multitude of questions—what would their friends, and Solomon, think of their relationship? Or would their relationship be private, undisclosed? Did—did they just _both_ have their first kiss?

A feigned yawn from Yugi interrupted his thoughts. Atem silently decided those questions would have to wait—there was no rush to discuss their future; their plans. It was something Atem would have to learn while assimilating himself into the modern world—to take it day by day. 

And his Yugi would be his guide.

It was unlikely he was going to sleep soundly tonight because of his fever, but his partner’s comforting hold could easily lull him into a doze.

And with a small smile, Atem snuggled closer.

“Goodnight.”


End file.
